What's Left
by WeepingAngelXIII
Summary: A prequel to "Here Come the Drums".  The Master is revived on Gallifrey during the Time War and meets someone he hasn't seen for a very long time.


**This is a prequel to "Here Come the Drums" and is dedicated to **_**Aragornevenstar4eva.**_** Keep smiling, Sister!**

The body lay flat and still on the table, chained down yet making no attempt to struggle. It was just a shell: a man without a soul, one of the few left. Its hearts were silent, its brain was empty; it was nothing: not yet. Romana looked at its blank face, clutching the watch to her chest. She knew what the Doctor would be saying to her now if he knew what she was doing. He would tell her not to do it and that the Master was not trustworthy. He would bring Gallifrey to an end. But she had no choice. Even as President she could be outvoted by the High Council. She could not argue, even with him now. The body lay silent on its bed of stone, the darkness enveloping it. Romana could not take her eyes away from its lifeless face. She did not know how long she stood there, knowing that before long she would hate that face more than anything Gallifrey had ever given. How she wished none of this had ever happened. She wished that no one had died. It was just her terrible luck that she had to be President of a war-zone: all the deaths of innocent Gallifreyans and Time Lords. Daleks were truly monsters.

'Madam President?'

Romana turned to see the young Time Lord in the doorway. He was giving her a questioning look. Romana hid her feelings behind her face of authority.

'I'm ready,' she said. 'Send them in.'

The scientists worked on the body, trying to fuse the Master's soul to the brain of this new body. The Presidential Guard had also been called down, in case of need of them. Romana stood watching, her face a blank slate. The Doctor would hate her if he only knew what she was doing. Why did her lives have to be so hard? The scientists wired the chameleon arch to the head of the body and clipped the fob watch to the machine. Romana took a deep breath and then nodded.

The hearts sprang into life and the Master's new blue eyes snapped open and he screamed out.

'DOCTOR!'

He tried to get up and then realised he was chained to the table. The Master gave his wrists a fruitless tug and tried to kick out of the chains.

'Ah,' he said. Then he saw Romana and gave her a look of pure venom. 'I know you,' he said. 'Madam President. You had me taken to Skaro. You had me killed.'

'You are under arrest by the Laws of Time …'

'…And by the authority of the High Council of Gallifrey,' completed the Master in a monotone. 'Yes, I know. I have been arrested before. What do you want?'

'What does that mean?' asked Romana, glaring at him. The Master gave her a worryingly confident smile.

'I was dead. All you precious Time Lords have wanted me out of the way for hundreds of years. So why would you bring me back if you've always wanted me dead?' He smiled even more widely at Romana's silence. 'Lost for words.'

'Get him marked,' said Romana, in a this-conversation-is-over tone of voice. The Master's smile disappeared instantaneously.

'What? I haven't had time to do anything yet. It has only been … one minute!'

'We can't take any risks,' said Romana as the scientists undid the chameleon arch and the Presidential Guard undid the Master's shackles. 'I'm sorry.' The Master gave Romana a look of undefiled hatred.

'You're sorry,' he hissed at her. 'That's all you can say? "I'm sorry"? The Council never changes. The Time Lords change: one righteous clone to another, but you never see a difference in their souls.' The Master was now free of shackles and made a very unproductive attempt to escape. One of the Presidential Guards hit him with the butt of his gun and the Master buckled.

'No,' said Romana, sharply. 'I did not bring him back from the depths of the vortex (against my better judgement) to have him killed within minutes of him being revived. I want him alive and in one piece. Is that understood?'

'Has anyone heard of forgiveness anymore?' asked the Master, a vivid bruise rising on his forehead.

'Who was it who said that they did not want the High Council's forgiveness?' asked Romana. The Master inwardly groaned at the familiar words.

'That was me,' he said. 'But to be fair, I haven't done anything.'

'Do you want the list?' asked Romana, as the Master was shackled to the wall by his arms, in a standing position.

'That's not fair,' he said.

'This is a lot more reasonable than you were,' said Romana to the back of the Master's head. 'I've heard stories about you. At least I have the good will to apologise to those who don't deserve it. You couldn't even do that for those who did.'

'One day, Madam President. One day…'

'Speaking of which, you're working for us now,' said Romana. She could not see the look on the Master's face but she would be sure that he would have smiled.

'And if I refuse?'

'Everything dies: you included,' said Romana. 'I'll give you time to think about it. But for now you face the needle. I'm sorry again. It will hurt.'

'Really?' said the Master sarcastically. 'I never knew.'

'Just get on with it,' said Romana to one of the guards, who proceeded to pick up a long, black, thick needle. 'I've got to go and find a number of people.'

'Leave then, coward!' yelled the Master after her as she left. 'Go and look after you precious people. I don't care what the reason is. I am not fighting any war for you!' But Romana was now beyond his calls. Then he felt cold hands on his right shoulder, exposing the new and fresh skin. The Master expected pain and bit down on the inside of his lip to try and concentrate on something else. But he had forgotten how much the marking hurts. The needle was pushed deep into his skin, muscle, veins, blood, right up to the bone, injecting the black poison as it went. The Master yelled in pain as he felt the needle scrape his bones, toxins pouring from the metal. The needle was withdrawn, but he was still screaming; and that was only the beginning…

The Master was thrown straight into a cell but was back on his feet within seconds. He ran back to the door as it closed and yelled back through the bars.

'Tell her that! Tell your President it isn't going to happen! And tell her that I think she's a …'

'They can't hear you,' came an all-too-familiar voice from the other side of the wall to his left. 'And even if they could I don't think that it would help your situation that much.'

'It makes me feel slightly better,' he answered, and kicked the wall very hard.

'That wouldn't have helped either. Changed but still the same. What happened to you? The last I heard of you was you'd been executed by the daleks. Sort of ironic, isn't it?'

'Now, I'll think you'll find, Rani, we will have to get on. We're stuck in adjoining cells and if we don't, we'll probably drive each other mad.'

One the other side of the wall, the Rani grinned.

'And that, Master, is something that isn't going to happen any time soon. There is a war on, you know. That's why they brought me back here. I didn't go willingly but they stuck me here anyway. That's not my point though. My point is that we never got on before. I'm not planning on starting now.'

'We were friends once, if you recall,' said the Master sitting with the back to the wall behind which he knew the Rani was.

'Just because we were friends in the Academy means nothing. We were both friends with the Doctor if you remember. Still wanting him dead?'

'Oh yes.'

'Thought you would. You are really that shallow.' He grinned, as though taking it a compliment.

"So what happened to you?" he asked. "You seem to know all about what happened to me, although I'm not sure how." The Rani snorted.

"Everyone knows about that," she said. "It wasn't exactly a secret. You fell out with the daleks, and the Time Lords took you to be tried on Skaro. Besides, the Doctor did report it to the President, due to the fact he turned back up on Gallifrey without what was left of you. I didn't hear it being very much."

"All right, you've made your point," muttered the Master. "But you still haven't told me why you're here. It wasn't by choice from what you said."

"Give the man a medal."

"Sarcasm isn't going to help anything."

"I know."

"But it's always that special kind of sarcasm you reserve just for me."

"Oh, don't start!"

"What?"

"You know what."

The Master smiled and leant against the wall separating them.

"No," he said. "You're avoiding my questions."

"We really must be in trouble if they called you back from the dead to help us. Or me for that matter, but _seriously_ if we got landed with you." The Master grinned as though something had just occurred to him.

"They took Miasimia Goria off you, didn't they?"

"What?"

"They took your little planet and your aliens off you and dragged you back here. No wonder you're in such a bad mood."

"Do you think I'd just let them take all I had left?"

"No, but I don't think they'd let you have your way either. We're at war: remember?" The Rani muttered something indistinct on the other side of the war.

"They came and overpowered me and my aliens. They wanted me back for my chemistry skills, and when I refused to come, they brought me here with force." The Master laughed.

"You poor, poor dear."

"Shut up, or the next time I see you I will start removing your vital organs." The Master smiled. He loved tormenting her. There was a short silence. "You aren't going to fight are you?" The Master shrugged.

"I don't know."

"We're both now in a position that if we don't we die."

"A position I would rather not be in," muttered the Master. "However, it's a hell of a lot better than where I was before." The Rani laughed.

"I wish you were still there. I was just starting to think that life couldn't get any worse when they brought you here. They think you're some kind of Ultimate Weapon." The Master grinned.

"I try my best."

"I'm getting bored of you now. Will you just go away?"

"No. But still, at least neither of us are alone." The Rani rolled her eyes.

"This is a _terrible_ war," she muttered. The Master smiled and for a long time nobody spoke.

"Tell you what," said the Master. "If we get out of this, I'll get you Miasimia Goria back."

"Why would you do that?" asked the Rani, sounding genuinely surprised. The Master shrugged, forgetting that she couldn't see him.

"Don't know," he said. "Just seemed like something to do. I mean it's been a long time since we last worked together."

"And I wonder why that was?" the Rani replied. "You were the one who lost my brain fluid and screwed up my experiments."

"Maybe if you'd been a little more cooperative…"

"Save it!" snapped the Rani, and the Master sighed.

"Why is it that every conversation with you ends with us at odds," he asked.

"We don't play well," said the Rani sarcastically. "I have my science, you have your dominion. We're nothing alike and we think differently."

"Oh, not so much," he said. "We have had allied causes before."

"I'm not a child anymore. We left common paths centuries ago."

"And joined up again," finished the Master. The Rani stared at the wall.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we don't have a choice anymore. We cooperate or die, that's the size of it. We're both expendable, and they're not ever planning on letting us go when this is all over." The Rani swallowed but said nothing. The Master continued. "You'll get used to it. Who knows, you may even enjoy it."

"Only in your warped skull, Koschei." The Master grinned evilly.

"We'll see," he said. "We'll see."


End file.
